


i spend all my nights counting backwards the days 'til i'm home

by PuriPuki



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 21:18:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9028300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuriPuki/pseuds/PuriPuki
Summary: Christmas break had finally rolled around, and by some miracle, Inigo and Gerome’s vacation days lined up almost perfectly. Better yet, Gerome’s parents insisted that their son fly home for the holidays, which meant face to face, in real life, physical contact for the first time in four months.My Christmas present for my lovely girlfriend! I hope you enjoy it!!





	1. If only New York wasn't so far away

Inigo, sitting in what may just be the world’s most uncomfortable chair at six fifty in the morning, surrounded by overtired employees and screaming children, curses Gerome’s early bird nature.

 

Gerome’s tendency to wake up early was good for many things; he was never late for morning classes, he cooked breakfast while Inigo was still asleep, he had the time to do any last minute homework if needed. It was very bad for Inigo, especially since this tendency led Gerome to conclude that a 5:40 am departure was something one should do.

 

A 5:40 flight, departing from one of the busiest airports in the world. Great plan, right?

 

Earlier that morning, Inigo awoke to the gentle default marimba of an alarm and Snickers’ whining. Exhausted, he could hardly drag himself out of bed and into a coat before walking his beloved dog around the block. While doing so, Inigo checked the several messages he received while asleep.

 

Lucy; 11:32 pm

> Make sure that you get to bed early tonight since you have to get Gerome in the morning. Don’t be stupid and try to pull an all-nighter.

 

Eternal Chastity; 12:22 am

> dude do we have english homework

 

Eternal Chastity; 12:30 am

> oh right it’s winter break

 

Brad; 12:40 am

> it’s gonna be cold as shit tomorrow morning, wear gloves or smth. Also owain wants to know if you guys had english homework assigned for the break

 

Noire; 1:09 am

> hey sev (who is currently sleeptalking) told me to tell you to “eat my dick” jsyk

 

Mom; 2:47 am

> If you aren’t already asleep, please go to sleep soon! And remember to set your alarms properly

 

Dad; 2:49 am

> make sure u take snickers out for a walk before you go

 

Lizard Man; 3:56 am

> Heading to the airport now. Remember, my flight leaves at 5:40 am and arrives at 7:50 am. The flight number is AA 2489, I’ll send the baggage claim carousel if I see it beforehand. Xx

 

Smiling, Inigo sent back a quick text before returning to the house with Snickers to get ready for the long drive to the airport.

 

To: Lizard Man; 4:27 am

> okie dokie~ im about to get ready to drive out, i’ll bring coffee if u want

 

Lizard Man; 4:30 am

> I already bought coffee from the cafe at the airport. Let’s stop on the way home for breakfast instead. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Morning, kiddo! Sleep okay?” Henry greeted him, already awake and brewing the first pot of coffee of the day. Inigo gratefully took a cup and slumped into the dining room chair.

 

“Not really, I woke up a lot. Just excited, y’know?” 

 

“Yeah, haha, I know. When your mom used to travel to perform, I always stayed up the whole night before she was supposed to be back ‘cause I was too excited,” His mother, a previous world renowned dance superstar, was still asleep upstairs, snoring lightly. “She’s still asleep though.

 

“Up late wrapping gifts again?” The newest additions to the growing pile under their tree was noticeable, bright green paper tied together with golden ribbon.

 

“You betcha! I’m sure she’s just excited, it isn’t every Christmas your boy brings his hubby home~”

 

“Okay, I’m-” Inigo started, standing abruptly and walking towards his room, “I’m gonna go get ready and pretend you didn’t say that.” He was already out the door by the time Olivia was awake, ignoring the rising feeling of giddy embarrassment in his chest.

 

The drive out to the airport was, surprisingly, not the worst part of Inigo’s morning. Traffic was light, the sun’s morning glare was behind him, and the radio blasting “Today’s Top Pop Hits”. He sings along to the radio, loudly and cheerfully. Every other saturday, he would’ve still been fast asleep, but his excitement and coffee was keeping him running on a minimum amount of sleep.

 

Compared to the drive in, navigating the city was absolute hell. The streets twisted and turned and dumped onto one way streets that left him driving the wrong way, there were infuriatingly rude drivers, and road work signs every few blocks that had him taking detours all over the city. Driving in big cities, Inigo decides, is hell. In other news, water is wet, the sun is hot, and the sky is blue. After another horrid twenty minutes of navigating the airport terminals and finding the right parking lot, the easy part was over.

 

The hard part was the waiting.

 

Despite the difficulties with parking, Inigo was practically vibrating with anticipation. Christmas break had  _ finally  _ rolled around, and by some miracle, Inigo and Gerome’s vacation days lined up almost perfectly. Better yet, Gerome’s parents  _ insisted  _ that their son fly home for the holidays, which meant face to face, in real life, physical contact for the first time in four months. The first time in four months he’ll hear Gerome’s voice in person instead of over Skype, the first time in four months he’ll be able to hold his lover’s hand, the first time in four months that he’ll be able to kiss him.

 

It had been a  _ long  _ four months.

 

The excitement must be written all over his face, because the older woman waiting a few seats over in the same baggage carousel leans over to tell him,

 

“If you didn’t look so young, I’d think you were waiting for an army wife to come home. Who are you here for, young man?”

 

“My boyfriend,” Inigo says, no hesitation, grateful for the anonymity of airports, “He’s coming home from college for Christmas. I haven’t seen him in months, I’m too excited to even put into words.” The woman chuckles, and gives him a coupon for the chain coffee shop a carousel over (“If you’re here this early, you’re going to need some caffeine. Merry Christmas and a happy new year to you and your boy,” the women says, before standing and making her way towards a young man with a toddler in his arms). 

  
Inigo checks his phone as she goes, only to find that it’s only 7:00. Another long, long, long hour would have to pass before Gerome’s plan would land.


	2. Don’t you know that you’re all that I think about?

He wakes up early, when his roommate is finally laying down. The other man had stumbled into their shared dorm an hour before, drunk off his ass and struggling to make a sandwich before passing out. Gerome rarely spoke to his roommate, neither liking the other very much, and was grateful to not have to worry about waking him while preparing to leave.

 

The checklist made for the suitcase is simple and easy to run through; four t-shirts, three pairs of jeans, two long sleeved shirts, socks, underwear, pajamas, and gifts for his parents and Inigo. For the carry-on bag, he as his phone, laptop, chargers for both devices, three sets of earbuds, and a new book.

 

He’s out the door by 3:50, shoots a quick text to Inigo, and gets on the next bus to the airport with his small suitcase, a lizard keychain hanging off one of the zippers. Gerome is the only one on the bus this early, and the driver doesn’t try to make conversation - he’s seen enough college students before to know that the eyebags Gerome has is enough of a signal that says ‘don’t talk to me’.

 

The airport is huge, but easy to navigate; everything is well labeled and in several languages (though he notes that their Japanese would translate incorrectly, in most places). Baggage drop off and check-in is practically empty, and he gets through security in less than five minutes. Once he’s settled in at the correct gate with a cup of coffee, breakfast sandwich, and snacks in his carry-on, Gerome checks his phone to find a new text from Inigo.

 

Inigo; 4:27 am

> okie dokie~ im about to get ready to drive out, i’ll bring coffee if u want

 

The offer is kind, but by the time he gets there, Gerome is sure that the coffee will have gone cold. He shoots off another text, and settles into his most recent book, unfortunately class-required reading. 

 

To: Inigo ; 4:30 am

> I already bought coffee from the cafe at the airport. Let’s stop on the way home for breakfast instead. 

 

He receives a message from his mother and father then, checking in on him for what must be the seventh time in the past two days. Both were incredibly worrisome and doted on him as much as they could. 

 

Mother; 4:56 am

> Morning sweetie! Make it to the airport okay?

 

Father; 4:59 am

> Your mother asked me to text you, did you make it to the airport alright

 

To: Family Chatroom; 5:03 am

> I made it to the airport fine, I’m already sitting at my gate. Still have another hour or so before take off. And yes, I know that Inigo is coming to pick me up, and don’t worry, he said he’s already on his way. 

 

Family Chatroom; 5:05 am

Mother > Alright, just make sure you have gum for the flight! You know that the altitude shift hurts your ears.

 

Boarding begins soon after his mother’s worried messages stop, starting a solid thirty minutes before departure. Gerome somehow managed to book a seat right next to a very tired mother and very hyperactive toddler, who seems incredibly fascinated by Gerome’s glasses and dragon keychains. He’s in the window seat, thankfully, and plugs his headphones into the arm, where the standard ‘for your safety’ messages play. The voice is dull and lifeless, but Gerome supposes it’s better than listening to the toddler bicker with her mother. 

It’s 6:30 when they announce that passengers can now use their devices, far longer than it typically was. He hauls his carry-on out from underneath the seat in front of him in search of his laptop, aiming to do some of his break work while he had the chance, when the little girl sitting next to him tugs on his sleeve. He halfheartedly pulls his earbuds out, if only to prevent the girl from having a meltdown. 

 

“I like your dragons, mister. Do they have names?” The child asks, before backtracking herself and telling him, “My name is Laurel, what’s yours?”

 

“... I’m Gerome. And no, they don’t have names.” Laurel is visibly upset at this, her mother none the wiser. “You can name them if you want.” He pulls the three keychains off, and hands them to her, praying that her hands aren’t covered in frosting or flu or something. 

 

“Ooooh, I like the pink one, Ger-Gero- Jerry!” Laurel says, fiddling with the beaded keychain, “It has a pearl too! Pretty…”

 

“Yeah,” he agrees, eyes flickering back and forth between Laurel and his reading, “my mom gave me that one.”

 

“I’m gonna name it Rosie,” she declares, and moves onto the bronze one next, “and this one will be Daisy,” and then the silver one, “and this one can be… hmmm…”

 

“How about Laurie?” He suggests, which is well-received if the wide smile on her face is anything to go by. 

 

“I love it!” She shrieks, immediately hushed by her mother. “Is it okay if I play with them some?”

 

“Sure,” Gerome says before returning to his work. He’s surprised how easy it was to appease the little girl, given his poor experiences with young children in the past (He once babysat the twins with Lucina and Laurent, and refused to do it again - having his hair pulled by Morgan once was more than enough). He’s sure that as he grows older, his parents will start to wonder if he and Inigo will adopt or look into a surrogate, but… Gerome has never been good with children, he was hardly able to communicate well enough with his own classmates and friends. 

 

He pushes the thought of children out of his mind, and returns to a reading detailing the anatomy of avians and their relatives, while Laurel plays make-believe with his keychains. Soon enough, Laurel is tugging his sleeves again, and whispers,

 

“The people just said that we’re gonna start des-des-desce-... they said that we’re gonna start going back to the ground and to put away things.” She hands him his dragons, all three now named, “Thank you for letting me play with your dragons, Mommy always said to say thank you to other people.”

 

“Your Mommy is very smart, then, Laurel. And you’re welcome,” Gerome whispers back, before packing his laptop away. The past hour and a half had passed almost too quickly, he spent too much time glancing at Laurel’s in-progress story and not enough doing his reading.

 

“Thank you for letting her play with your keychains,” the mother says over Laurel’s head, “She’s been very into dragons lately.”

 

“No problem,” Gerome says, “If she’s into dragons, I recommend the Last Dragon Chronicles. It’s for younger kids, I loved them when I was little.”

 

“Oh, thank you.” The mother replies, before busying herself with packing Laurel’s other toys into their two carry-ons. The landing is as smooth as they can be. He almost pukes, always sensitive to the harsh changes in altitude. 

 

Gerome’s nausea doesn’t fade, the airsickness fades into excitement and anxiety.

  
It’s been four months.


	3. I’m already home

Gerome is jetlagged and exhausted when he stumbles out of the plane, yawning every few minutes. Laurel had yelled a goodbye at him when her mother had directed her to another gate further away, telling him to take care of his dragons. 

 

He gets lost trying to find the right baggage claim, and ends up having to go across half of the airport before finally finding the right area. For a moment, Gerome is lost in the crowd of disoriented travelers desperate to grab their luggage and get out of the airport as fast as they can. He’s not even thinking about finding his suitcase, it’s the last thing on his mind - nothing takes precedence over the boy with the white hair that’s standing up to stretch his legs.

 

Gerome has never been incredibly tactile, but… it’s been a long, long four months. He runs past the other people and can’t help hugging Inigo like it’s been decades since they last saw each other. Inigo is crying, without a doubt, little wet spots gathering on Gerome’s jacket. He’s not sure how long they’re standing there, just holding each other, but it’s easily the happiest he’s been in months. 

 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Inigo whispers, voice muffled by Gerome’s shoulder. “Let’s go home,”

 

“I already am,” he whispers back, holding Inigo tighter.


End file.
